Here's another letter we received. This one comes from someone who had taken a job as a copy editor at Patch, and who wished to remain anonymous:

I was hired at Patch to be a copy editor. They recruited me through LinkedIn. I ended up quitting at the get-go because I found their contract to be completely inappropriate if not against fair labor practices. They didn't send me the contract until after I had already left my house for the training session. If I'd read it beforehand, I probably would have addressed this with them then and may have chosen not to waste my time with the training.

I knew the work would be low-paying, but I'm a freelancer and the prospect of having one consistent client for the next 9 months was tempting. But when I saw the contract and then took a look at the actual work, I felt that the work would feel Sisyphean. I don't have a copy of the contract anymore , but I can tell you the gist. The pay was bracketed. If I completed 300 entries in a week, they would pay $480. First problem, they estimated that this would take 25-30 hours. After I looked at the work, I estimated that it would take a minimum of 30 *productive* hours. Anyone who works in an office full-time knows that they get paid for 35-40 hours, but they get paid breaks and then there's the time you stop and talk to your coworkers. Actual productivity? Probably less than 30 hours. So they're talking 30 cranking, full-speed hours at $16 per hour, and you pay your own insurance and an extra 6.5% self-employment tax.

Second problem, if you edit 200-299 entries, they pay $310. 100-199 entries completed dropped to something like $130, can't remember for sure. This was where my real problem cropped up. You have to complete these entries within the week, which runs Sunday midnight to Sunday midnight. So, I asked my editor about this to clarify. I said, so, if I edit 290 entries in a week, 90 entries—equal to 9 hours of my time—would go unpaid? She answered yes, that's their "incentive system."

So, the equivalent of that (just to be clear, because it seemed like such horseshit to me that I had a hard time believing I was understanding it right) is this: You're at the widget factory, and they tell you, you have to make 100 widgets during your ten-hour shift, but if you only make 99, you won't get paid for the day.

Oh, and you couldn't do more than 300 entries. Do any more than that, and you won't get paid for them either.

Third problem, they were calling me a copy editor. But actually, the pieces would come to me and I would be the first and last set of eyes to see them. They paid freelance writers $12.50 to call the business, interview the owner, write up about 75-150 words on it, fill in a bunch of data fields in the CMS, visit the location and take 10 photos, which would get uploaded to the site. From there, the entry came to me. I edited the article, checked all of the data fields, and edited the photos. If information was missing, I had to find it online or make the notes on the entry and send it back to the freelancer. If you haven't done the math already, I needed to do one entry start to finish every 6 minutes, continuously, for 30 hours to make my $480.

It is really hard for me to turn down work. I have a 16-month-old kid. But my normal rate is, minimum, twice that for various editorial services. The very minimum my husband and I need to make a year to keep our family's head above water—and we have stripped our expenses to the bare minimum, we're talking basic cable, free flip phones, $1600/month rent in New York City, daycare with a neighbor at $6/hour–is $72K. And that doesn't get us out of debt, that doesn't give us any savings, doesn't pay for our retirement, doesn't pay for our son's college. If both of us were to work 40 hours per week, 52 weeks per year, at $16/hr, that's a combined income of approx. $66,500. That's 40 nonstop hours of productivity, 52 nonstop weeks per year. Breaks aren't paid for. Insurance isn't paid for. Vacations aren't paid for. No contributions to a 401K. It took all of my self-control not to write an open letter to AOL telling them to suck it. I want one of those MBA-holding morons to figure out how their business model is remotely good for the American economy.

One thing I found interesting: I've worked at mid-level positions for major publishing companies in New York. When I go back full-time, it'll be at the senior editor level. So, why did they recruit me for this position? And when I looked around the room at the training session, I saw a lot of people my age, meaning they probably had at least a decade of experience under their belt. All but maybe one or two looked like composed professionals. I was boiling at the training session, as the reality of things became clear. But I didn't say anything. At the end of the session, only one person (coincidentally, the one person who didn't seem like a seasoned pro) stayed to speak congenially with our editor. It was like the chairs almost flew over backward as everybody else bolted for the door. I'm not positive, but I think everyone in that room wanted to slap that editor. I walked out feeling like we were indeed in a depression, because otherwise, why would people at this level be willing to subject themselves that kind of unfair treatment?

We reached out to AOL when we first ran an item on this topic and did not hear back. We still welcome comment from the company.